


a future together

by dangeropolis



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, alternate title- 'i can't believe it's not slowburn', full of fluff unfortunately, like seriously i'm sorry it's so sugary sweet you'll die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 15:06:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8451115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangeropolis/pseuds/dangeropolis
Summary: Satya and Junkrat take a very important step in their relationship.
(otherwise known as a modern!au where satya introduces her boyfriend to her parents and it goes terribly wrong, because of course it does)





	

Rain splattered against the glass, pooling into large drops before swiftly being swept away by the windshield wiper. Again and again this happened, as the rainfall outside was picking up into something heavier in the foggy streets of London. It was a little after five o’clock in the evening, but it had been raining since the early morning and large puddles were forming in the streets, splashing against pedestrians whenever a careless car would speed through them.

Satya took all of this in as she slowed down a bit earlier at the stoplight, allowing for a smooth stop. As she did so, she allowed herself a small glance at her boyfriend of three years. “Junkrat,” she said softly, using the moniker he had given himself when he was only a child. “There is no need to be nervous.”

Junkrat was scrunched up in the passenger seat, focused intently on the raindrops slowly tracing down the window. “Do you ever just stare at the raindrops as they fall on the car? It’s like a race to the bottom.”

As the light flickered to green, Satya sighed and continued down the main road. “I see we’re playing the denial game.”

Junkrat grunted, shifting in his seat. European cars had always been too small for his tall stature, and he was often trying to find a comfortable position to no avail. “I ain’t denying anything, I’m not nervous.” Despite the confident words, he was still tapping his fingers against the seat divider and jiggling his leg constantly, nervous quirks. “How far away are we?”

“We’re almost there,” Satya said, turning left into the airport’s roadway. The Heathrow Airport was one of the largest in the world, which was why Satya had given them plenty of time to arrive and navigate their way to the gate entrance. “Do you have the information?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Junkrat said, digging into his pockets for his phone. Even with the weather, he was still wearing shorts, Satya noted with a twinge of fondness. “Terminal 5, Gate D64, 5:35 arrival,” he read off, swiping through his phone. Satya switched into the lane for Terminal 5 pickups, craning her head to find a parking spot.

“Let’s go over the rules,” she said, pulling into a space and unclicking her seatbelt.

“Of course you have a list of rules,” Junkrat said patiently, used to her overplanning by now. It even brought a smile to his nervous demeanor again. “Never would’ve doubted it.”

“Rule number one, crude jokes, impolite remarks, or any rude comments,” Satya said, starting to make the trek to the airport’s inner building from the parking garage.

Junkrat scoffed. “I’m more than a tad offended by that one, missy, and you know it.” He had gotten out an umbrella from the car and opened it above the two of them.

“Thank you,” she said under the umbrella, still feeling giddy with his small acts of kindness after three years. “And, I know you would never, but I thought I’d be sure.”

“You, being cautious and careful? Unheard of, alert the presses, call the bloody police and have your pretty arse carted off to slammer,” he joked, earning a light flick on the shoulder from Satya, who was smiling even with the upcoming dread in the air.

“Rule number two,” she pressed on, ignoring his comments. “No mention of my career choices. It is…” she trailed off, sighing again. “A sensitive subject.”

A gentle hand touched her lower back. “I know, of course I know,” Junkrat said, his voice uncharacteristically tender. “All I’ll talk about is how great you are in the sack,” he amended, puncturing the air with a loud cackle just as they were entering the building, earning a glare from an airport security officer.

“I shall ask you to refer to Rule Number One again,” Satya reprimanded.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “Okay, and the third one?”

“Be yourself.”

Junkrat stopped in his place, right outside the Starbucks and next to one of the airport’s tacky giftshops, filled with magazines and cheap perfumes. “Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You want me to be myself? In front of your _parents._ ”

“Yes,” Satya said firmly, picking up her stride again towards the gates. They were getting close, she noted with a knot in her stomach. “Don’t pretend to be anybody except who you are, I insist upon it.”

“You do know who I am, right? I mean, you didn’t even tell ‘em about me until after three bloody years” he asked, almost sputtering as he caught up to her. Other airport-goers were briskly walking past, juggling luggage and children and tickets, all caught up in a rush to get their respective gates. Satya had no problem whisking past them, her heels clicking loudly against the tile and her long skirt brushing behind her. “I’m not exactly the man you bring to meet the ‘rents.”

“Yes, you are,” Satya said, spinning around to face him. They were right outside Gate D64 anyway, no need to rush. “Culturally, I felt as though I had to wait a very long time to tell them of you, but rest assured that you are the one I bring to meet my parents because I love you, not anyone else. Not anyone you could pretend to be, only you.”

“Well, geez, love,” Junkrat said, rubbing the back of his neck with a blush. “When you put it that way…” He smiled down at her before pulling her up into a light kiss, placing a hand on her back to pull her closer. Satya kissed him back, enjoying this moment of serene calm before the storm, even if she detested public displays of affection.  

“Satya!” a voice rang out above the masses of people, causing Satya to freeze in place, staring at Junkrat. “Satya!” it called again.

Turning quickly, Satya saw her parents tugging their luggage out of the gate entrance, waving at her with big smiles.

“Pappa, Mamma,” Satya cried out, embracing them both in a large hug. Despite the nervousness around introducing them to Junkrat, it was still an absolute joy to see them again after so many years. Laggy skype calls and long letters couldn’t completely fill her homesickness. “I have missed you dearly,” she said in Hindi, holding them tightly. Her mother had become a little more plump, and father’s hairline was markedly more receded, but otherwise they were still picture-perfect, filling her with waves of nostalgia.

Junkrat awkwardly stood back, tucking his hands into his pockets and whistling nonchalantly as the Vaswani’s had their reunion.

Satya pulled back from the hug, splaying her arms out to gesture towards Junkrat. “Mamma, Pappa, this is Jun-“ she cleared her throat, inwardly chiding herself. “Jamison Fawkes, my boyfriend,” she said in English.

Junkrat outstretched his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Vaswani,” he said, trying his hardest to sound overly formal.

Mr. Vaswani took it first, giving it a firm shake. “Ah, yes, my daughter mentioned you on the phone. You are from Australia, correct?”

“Yeah,” Junkrat said, before blinking. “I mean yessir, Oceania’s my continent of origin. True Aussie, through and through.” Satya touched his arm, and he stopped talking, trying to save himself.

“I see,” Mr. Vaswani said curtly, before placing his hands behind his back. “Shall we?”

“Yes, I am very eager to see London.” Mrs. Vaswani piped in. “We couldn’t see much of from the plane, it was so foggy.” Junkrat had heaved up their two pieces of luggage over his shoulders, heading towards the front of the group. “It will be nice to get out of the dry heat, if only for a little while.”

“It’s such a shame you couldn’t stay for longer than a day,” Satya said, following Junkrat through the hoard of people coming and going. On a sound system above their heads, an automated voice listed out departures and delays, and intermittedly encouraging patrons to stop and enjoy a cup of coffee before their flight. The harsh florescent lights of the airport was harshly painting Junkrat as even paler than he already was. The cloudiness of London had faded away his nice Australian tan, something Satya could only see in pictures now.

Mrs. Vaswani sighed behind her. “I know, but your father had that conference in Dubai on Tuesday, so this unfortunately could only be a stop.”

As they exited the building, the rain had slowed down to only a light drizzle, barely kissing Satya’s skin. Beyond the clouds, a bit of light shone through as the evening appeared, painting London’s tall buildings and busy atmosphere in muddled colors of orange and purple. Despite occasionally missing the brightness and vibrancy of India, Satya had come to enjoy calling London her home, especially when she shared it with the lanky Australian currently trying to unlock the car with one hand while balancing the luggage with the other, and failing miserably.

“Are we going back to your flat, Satya?” Mr. Vaswani asked, pointedly not including Junkrat in the statement.

“Actually,” Junkrat said, loading up the luggage in the boot of the car before letting Mrs. Vaswani sit in the passenger seat up front. “We made reservations at a nice place downtown, thought you might be hungry.”

“I am a little peckish,” Mrs. Vaswani admitted, which Satya knew meant she was starving. She took the keys from Junkrat and climbed into the driver’s seat as he sat in the backseat next to Mr. Vaswani. “Satya, you drive?” she asked, not hiding the surprise in her voice.

“Yes, Jamison taught me about two years ago,” Satya said, craning her neck to check for any cars before pulling out of the parking lot.

“Bloody nightmare, that was,” Junkrat muttered.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Satya said, feeling defensive as she glanced at her boyfriend through the rearview mirror. “I am an excellent pupil.”

“Yeah, right,” Junkrat said with a laugh. “She couldn’t go above twenty kilos an hour without screaming bloody murder.” He leaned forward, jostling his leg with the memory. “And when I tried to teach her how to parallel park, it took her over an hour because she wanted to get it ‘precisely in place’,” he said, using a proper tone to mock her words.

Mr. Vaswani allowed himself a chuckle. “Yes, that sounds like Satya. Did you know that when she was a young girl, she would spend hours in her room, arranging her stuffed dolls for a tea party based on personality and sugar preferences, but spent so long on the seating chart it’d be time for bed before it was time for tea!”

“Aw, that’s downright adorable,” Junkrat said, and Satya glanced over her shoulder to give him a patient smile. “Any other embarrassing stories you could tell me?” he asked, and Satya’s smile disappeared.

“I remember a certain meeting we had to have with one of Satya’s teachers when she was younger,” Mrs. Vaswani said, smirking slightly.

“Oh, Gods,” Satya murmured, knowing the story that was about to take place.

“They were learning about space, and so she was assigned to build a perfect model of the solar system’s planets,” her father started. “So Satya worked all week, painting every single crater and ring and meteor.”

“And she brings it in to the teacher, very pleased with herself,” her mother butted in, giving a small laugh. “But the teacher marked her down, since she hadn’t included Pluto in her model.”

“After the low grade, we demanded a meeting with Satya and the teacher. When we ask why the low grade, the teacher says, ‘She hadn’t completed the assignment! Where is Pluto?’.

Mr. Vaswani cuts in,”And our bright little Satya says-“

“Pluto isn’t a planet, you dumb dummy!” They say in unison, including an exasperated Satya, who had heard this embarrassing story repeated at many family gatherings and parties ever since.

Junkrat hooted loudly, clapping his hands together. “Thank you, thank you for this fantastic gift. I’ll never forget it.”

They were all laughing as Satya pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot, getting out to open the door for her mother.

"Where are we eating, Satya?" her mother asked, climbing out of the car and smoothing out her skirt.

"Someplace simple and nice," Satya replied, just as Junkrat joined her side with her father. She was thankful she pushed him into wearing a shirt, there had been a few times where they were kicked out of places because he was only wearing shorts and sandals. Just as the United Kingdom had been quite the change from India for Satya, so had the move from Australia for Junkrat.

Junkrat opened the door for her and her parents, and the tiny hostess waiting there peered at her then at her reservation book. "We're full right now," she said, judgement thick in her voice. "Wait time is at least an hour, sorry."

"We have reservations, under Vaswani," Satya said, giving the hostess a placid smile. "For four?"

The hostess traced her finger down the list of reservations, stopping at a name and pointing at it. "Oh, here you are. Sorry." She quickly hefted four menus from her station and balanced them on her hip. "Right this way." They followed her into the back part of the restaurant, where a table was already set up. Satya sat next to Junkrat on one side, her parents taking the other. She saw her boyfriend back to being absolutely fraught with nerves, something that was very unlike him. She was used to him being the picture of chaos, from cursing out police officers to breaking their plumbing after a poorly executed 'experiment'. Satya took his hand under the table and gave it a light squeeze. He squeezed back.

"So," Mrs. Vaswani started, opening up the menu and reading over it with a quick glance. "How did you two meet?"   

"Well," Satya said, trying to make it sound like a romantic event and less like a contentious fate.

"She was working at my physical therapist's place," Junkrat cut in, picking up a butter knife and twirling it in his fingers with a deft quickness. "Picture of beauty and grace, this one. Sitting at that receptionist's desk like a modern day goddess, I tell ya."

Satya blushed, a little shocked he'd say something like this in front of her parents.

"So naturally, I just had to talk to hr. Went up to her desk after every appointment and told her she was the prettiest girl she had ever seen."

"And she liked this?" Mr. Vaswani asked, just as a busboy appeared with four glasses of water.

Junkrat snorted loudly, making the busboy jump slightly. "Mate, she couldn't have been colder to me than if we were dying in a blizzard in only our skivvies." The knife was still in his hands, and he used it to point at himself for effect. "And I'm not a bloke to make a woman uncomfortable, so i took a different approach to the whole matter. No compliments, just good old fashioned friendship." He took a sip of his water, and made a slight face before taking a sugar packet from the table. "Still didn't work, being nice to her," he said, tearing open the packet and dumping it in the water. "She told me I was, what was it dearie?"

Satya smiled. "A discourteous, uncouth crook with only the basest of instincts." Her parents laughed at that.

"That's the one. I mean, better than a ‘dumb dummy’, I’ll tell you that." He gazed at her with the oddest fondness, with one of the biggest and lavacious winks she had ever seen. "So I immediately asked her to dinner, on me."

"And you accepted?" her mother asked.

"And I accepted," she echoed.

"How could she resist me?" Junkrat asked, the anxiety once there almost gone. "I'm a walking charm bomb."

"Well, 'bomb', is certainly accurate," Satya murmurred.

The Vaswani's all had a polite chuckle at that, as Mr. Vaswani set down his menu. The waiter appeared, notepad in hand.

“Good evening everyone,” the waiter said, eyes sweeping over the table and giving a brief pause to the glass of mottled sugar water. To his professional credit, he said nothing and pressed on. “Are we all ready to order?”

After a brief pause to gather orders, the waiter whisked away with their menus. “So, Jamison,” Mr. Vaswani started as the waiter left. “Why were you in physical therapy?”

“Father,” Satya admonished harshly from across the table, but Mr. Vaswani took no notice and instead stared expectantly at Junkrat.

Junkrat leaned back in his chair, shrugging. “Naw, it’s okay. Nothing to be ashamed of.” He reached down to his right leg, clicking a pin near the ankle with an audible pop. The prosthetic slid off from past his knee, leaving only his thigh behind. Junkrat waved the leg in the air casually, as if it were a flag, not his limb. “Lost my leg in an accident about four years ago, hurt like hell, but I got this shiny little toy outta it.”

“That’s amazing,” Mrs. Vaswani muttered, leaning in to look at it. “I couldn’t even tell.”

“Yeah,” Junkrat said, clicking his leg back in and twisting it around. “Dr. Ziegler’s a miracle worker, that’s for sure.”

“Dr. Ziegler?” Mr. Vaswani echoed, raising an eyebrow and turning towards Satya. Satya braced herself, knowing the pointed insults that were sure to come. “The very same doctor who offered you a prestigious position within her company, that you proceeded to shamefully decline?” The restaurant, although deafening with various chatter and laughter, seemed to create a sinkhole around their table that had an aura of suffocating silence. A candle in the middle of the table dripped with wax, their droplets hardening on the white cloth below.

“We do not have to go over this again,” Satya said, almost begging with her eyes. “I have explained my opinion on the matter many times.”

“Your opinion?” Mr. Vaswani leaned forward in his chair, instantly tensing. “Your opinion on abandoning a very promising and fruitful career opportunity, that would have guaranteed success for yourself and future generations, and for what?”

“A career that I am very passionate about,” Satya argued, her perfectly manicured nails pressing into her palm, creating crescent moon rivulets in the skin there.

“Bah,” Mr. Vaswani said, waving the notion away with a hand. “Passion is not what you studied hard for, Vaswani. This is what is wrong with your generation, so individualistic, so selfish.”

Her mother closed her eyes. “Rahul, please-“

Satya bowed her head, but still pressed on. “Vishkar Industries are widely known for their outstanding advancements in civil engineering and technology, getting a job there was no easy feat-“

“Architecture is a fleeting path, and you are wasting your time on such a dying field.”

“Oi!” Junkrat jumped in, slamming a hand on a table and pointing a black nail at Satya’s father. “With all due respect, sir,’ he said, acid lacing his words. “Your daughter here has worked her arse off getting where she was. Her designs are fucking breath taking, internationally recognized, hell, she’s even been awarded top prestige or whatever for some of her ‘selfish passions’. So where do you get off telling her what she should and shouldn’t be doing?”

“You do not get to talk to me that way,” Mr. Vaswani snapped. “Especially a degenerate as low as yourself. How, exactly, did you lose that leg? Probably some bullheaded, idiotic mischief. Certainly nothing that proves that you worthy of my daughter.”

“Pappa!” Satya bit, grabbing Junkrat’s arm with a fierce protectiveness. “Apologize immediately.”

Junkrat straightened in his seat, furrowing his eyebrows. “No, I’m not worthy of Satya. Because I’m just some low-life bum doin’ jack shit while she works harder than anyone I’ve ever met. And if you can’t see that, well then you’re just as much of an idiot than I am.”

At that, the table was silent, with Satya still gripping Junkrat’s arm and Mr. Vaswani absolutely stone still with rage, Mrs. Vaswani quiet at his side.

“Hiya, everyone,” the waiter called out in a sing-songy voice, holding a tray of plates. “Who ordered the salmon?”

 

 

The rest of the meal was in silence, with Satya on the verge of tears and feeling a pounding stress headache forming in her sinus, knowing that this entire affair was a horrible idea. Next to her, Junkrat was calmer than she had ever seen him, politely cutting his meal into tiny bites and chewing with his mouth closed. Her parents were trying their best to seem well-mannered with their meal, but it was far past that point, Satya noted bitterly.

As their meals were finished, Satya fished out her wallet from her purse, placing the money on the bill.

“No, please, let me pay,” her father said, but she handed the check to the waiter anyway.

“Not necessary, I have more than enough funds for the meal,” she said smoothly, but letting the salt wash over her words. “I’m sure you are tired, due to the time difference. We have our spare room set up in our flat, we shall head back and you may sleep for the night before your flight to Dubai.”

“Oh, yes, I’m exhausted,” Mrs. Vaswani said, just as eager to leave the nightmarish meal.

Satya got up, letting her parents go on ahead. Junkrat lingered next to her, knowing that sometimes she needed to be alone when the stress was weighing on her. “Junkrat,” she said quietly. “Can you drive us home? I feel as though my emotions will hinder my focus.”

“’Course, love,” he said, taking the keys from her. “You wanna talk about it?”

Satya shook her head. “No, I just want to go home.”

“Yeah,” Junkrat said with an annoyed snort. “Sounds about right.”

 

The drive home was just as silent as dinner, however blessedly shorter since their flat wasn’t too far. Satya just sat in the backseat, creating a huge gap between her and her father, staring out the window. It had started raining again, with the reflections of the street lights forming vibrant colors against the puddles of the street. As she watched the rain fall down the windows, she recalled what Junkrat said earlier. He was right, the raindrops do seem to race to the bottom.

The guest room was already set up when they arrived, so Junkrat set the luggage next to the bed and said brief goodnights. Satya lit a candle in the room, and hugged her mother again.

“I’m sorry, you know your father is only worried about your future,” her mother said as she pressed against her. Satya breathed in, as her mother smelled of potpourri and lavender, which reminded her of her childhood deeply.

“I just wish he knew he didn’t have to worry,” Satya said, inhaling. “I’m doing well.”

“I know, my beautiful daughter,” she said, cupping Satya’s chin. “We are very proud.”

“Thank you,” Satya said. “Goodnight, mamma.”

“Goodnight, Satya.”

When Satya returned to her bedroom, Junkrat was already on the bed, shirt immediately removed. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair when Satya entered.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking Satya by the hand and tugging her toward the bed. “I ruined all of your little rules, huh?”

Satya allowed herself to be pulled in, tucking herself between his legs on the bed. They had moved in together only a year ago, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Despite their large and distinct difference, they flowed together so well, like water lapping at a shore. She nestled herself in his shoulder, letting the stress ripple away from her body. “It is okay,” she allowed. “Though no more rule breaking from now own, yes?”

“It’s a deal,” he said, wrapping her in a hug and smoothing her hair out. “Shit, I really thought that this whole thing might go well. I kinda wanted them to like me, y’know? I mean, you like me, don’t’cha?”

“Just barely,” Satya said with a small laugh, pulling away again. “I am going to shower, care to join me?”

“Ooh, playing dirty are we?” Junkrat asked with a large grin, waggling his eyebrows. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Satya hummed to herself, pulling off her expensive blouse and beginning to unclasp her chandelier earrings. “Could be, or perhaps this is my way of getting you to bathe. Your hair is filthy.”

Junkrat laughed, standing up and kissing her on both of her eyelids. “You’re making me a changed man; not sure how I feel about it.”

“Well, if you don’t like it, you can certainly shower alone,” Satya said, disappearing into their adjoined bathroom.

“Wait, what, no, hold on,” Junkrat sputtered, racing behind her and removing his leg. “You’re a bloody cheater!”

 

 

Satya awoke early, far too early for anyone else to be awake. The sun was barely rising above the city, so her small room was painted in low lights and shadows. Next to her, Junkrat was still asleep, limbs splayed out in every angle. The early morning sun was dappling his skin, illuminating faded freckles and soft eyelashes. In this hour, he looked like an entirely different man, almost pretty, but Satya knew better. She knew that his true nature was brash and rough and almost wildly handsome. It’s how she preferred him, but here, in the small hours of daylight, she loved him like this as well.

From her perfectly organized side of the closet she pulled on a long silk robe and tied it around her waist. She didn’t even want to look at Junkrat’s side of the closet, as she had given up on trying to clean it long ago. Some things you cannot change, even if the piles of dirty laundry and crumpled up notes were enough to make her skin crawl.

Padding out into the living room, she gave a small yawn, thinking of the day ahead. Her parent’s flight to Dubai was in a few hours, so there was time for a tense breakfast and half-hearted goodbyes. She was not terribly excited, but she could handle it. It was a little chilly in her flat, and she tugged her robe in tighter.

She had signed the lease on this flat with Junkrat when they decided to live together. Her former flat was far too cramped for two people, and his former residence was almost unspeakably horrible. She was certain there were cockroaches somewhere, something that Junkrat had vehemently denied. So they decided to find a new place, and with Satya’s lucrative position with Vishkar and Junkrat’s various freelancing designs for different engineering companies, they were able to afford a nice, cozy two-bedroom close enough to both of their jobs and not too far from the heart of London.

Although the décor was firmly of Satya’s design, with beautifully structured sculptures placed with care around the house, and houseplants hung with care from the ceilings in meticulous glass vials, Junkrat’s touch was still there. She thought it best not to tell her parents that the little devices around the place were actually defunct grenades and bombs of Junkrat’s design. Not even the most accepting of parents could understand that one.

Just before Satya reached the kitchen, she stopped. Looking through the open wall window connecting the living room and kitchen, she could see her father standing there, in a rumpled pajama blouse and house slippers. He was staring up at the wall above the table, adorned with various photographs from Satya and Junkrat’s life.

Satya slowly and silently entered the kitchen, keeping her distance next to the fridge, watching her father gaze up at the different photos.

One was Satya on her first day as an undergrad, patiently smiling for the camera but seeming perfectly horrified. It was her first time out of India, away from her parents, studying in a top school in a foreign land. Her roommate had her arm around her shoulders, smiling brightly. Satya thought that Lena looked so young in that picture, she hadn’t fully grown out of her chubby cheeks yet.

There were more from her college years, before she had met Junkrat. Her and Lena at a party, looking sufficiently out of place. A selfie her third year with Satya and Lucio, a fellow classmate who at first had been her worst enemy, with many combative and vicious debates in their Human Populations lecture. Now he was one of her closest friends.

Others showed Satya growing up, passing through different life events. Her, Lena, and her girlfriend Amelie at a pub, celebrating Lena getting her pilot’s license.

She watched as her father paused briefly at her graduation photo. Her, in a blue cap and gown, looking preen and perfect between her parents, holding a bouquet of roses. That was another day of fights, and if one looked closely they could see the pain in Satya’s eyes, the weight of disapproval over her architecture degree heavy on her shoulders. Her father reached out and barely touched the photo, regarding it briefly, before moving on.

That was where the photos with Junkrat appeared. Them at a celebratory dinner for prestigious graduates at Junkrat’s university. He was actually wearing a tux in that photo, looping an arm around Satya and barking in mid-laugh. They had left that event early, Junkrat deeming it ‘so fucking boring’, and instead they went to the beach in the middle of the night, letting their toes lap in the water and talking until the sun rose.

There was one with their backpacking trip in Machu Picchu, since a doctor had told Junkrat it would be impossible to climb up a mountain with his leg. They proved him wrong.

One at their impromptu roadtrip to Paris only a few months in their relationship, where Junkrat said ‘I love you’ for the first time, followed by a giggling make out session and far too much wine.

Another more recent one at a Lucio’s last Halloween party, with Satya as a vampire in high stockings and red contacts, Junkrat as Dr. Frankenstein, or ‘Dr. Junkenstein’ as he embarrassingly called it. That was one of the wilder parties Satya had ever attended, with Lena jumping off the balcony and landing safely in a bush.

One from a visit from Junkrat’s adoptive brother Mako, or ‘Roadhog’ as he insisted on being called. It was a stiff meeting at first, but eventually Satya and Roadhog bonded over literature and tea, with promises to come and visit Australia over Christmas. Next to the photo was one from Junkrat’s childhood, with him and Roadhoad smiling with missing teeth and bloody noses at the camera.

Junkrat’s graduation, with a degree in mechanical engineering from the Imperial College of London. His birthday party a few months later, which involved a lot of fireworks. A lot. Of fireworks.

Others appeared through the years. Birthdays, holidays, graduations, celebrations. Satya and Junkrat and their lives together, surrounded by a close knit group of friends and plenty of adventures. Satya was proud of this wall, she had spent hours meticulously framing each one and planning every spot, with Junkrat dutifully hammering and nailing away, until they had their own mini museum of their relationship and themselves.

And now it was being viewed, judged, by her father, who had barely moved in the past ten minutes of carefully inspecting each photograph.

Even though Satya hadn’t made her presence known, her father spoke: “You really have created a life here, haven’t you?”  There was another, unspoken part of the sentence. Created a life here without him, without her parents. On her own.

“Yes,” Satya said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “A successful one.”

“I can see that,” her father said, turning around to face her. “You must be very pleased with the woman you have become.” He paused, amending. “I am, as well. Pleased.”

“I thought you disapproved of my choices,” Satya said, biting her lip and refusing to meet his steady gaze.

Her father walked to her, placed his hands on her shoulders. “Satya. I am proud of you, because you are happy. All I ever wanted for you was happiness.” And with that, he pulled her into a hug. “I am sorry for my actions. I never wanted you to believe I wasn’t overwhelmingly honored to have you as my daughter.”

Satya allowed herself to hug him back, to let forgiveness wash over them, to start fresh. “Thank you,” she said, inhaling with a shaky breath. “It is much appreciated.” She broke the hug, smoothing her robe. “Now, let me make tea.”

“Tea?” a voice said, and Junkrat came out of the bedroom, rubbing at his eyes. And thank the Gods, he had come out wearing a shirt and boxers. “One of my favorite words, especially when it’s so damn early. Seriously, is this a family thing? Waking up at the ass crack of dawn?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Mrs. Vaswani said, coming out of the guest room with all the commotion. “I have had to deal with it as well, over the years.”

“Well, lemme start breakfast, then,” Junkrat said, rifling through the fridge. “You guys will love my bangers and eggs, no pork, cross my heart.”

Satya smiled at her boyfriend, and at her parents. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

 

After a quick morning shower and applying light makeup, Satya stepped into the living room, fumbling with her purse. “Alright, I am ready to leave for the airport, is everyone also prepared?” She stopped, looking at the scene.

Junkrat was sitting on the couch, opposite her parents on the loveseat. He was obviously very nervous, scratching at his neck and tapping on his knee, but a smile bit at his lips. Her father was still as stiff as ever, but was also beaming proudly. Her mother, the anomaly, had a large smile and tears welling up in her eyes, which she immediately dabbed with a handkerchief at Satya’s entrance.

“Is everything…fine?” Satya asked, furrowing her brows in confusion.

“Perfect as a peach, love,” Junkrat said, standing up and stretching. “Let’s get a move on, come on, I hate waiting around.” He grabbed the luggage from the guest room as her parents gathered their things. As her mother passed her, she squeezed Satya’s hand before letting go.

Satya pursed her lips, but shrugged it off as they gathered in the car.

 

Satya waved her parents off to their gate, her heart heavy as she watched them leave. She would miss them, even though they made promises to come and visit around New Years. Junkrat had given her father another firm handshake, and her mother had pulled him into a tight hug. Satya had swelled with joy and relief at their acceptance of her boyfriend, and as they left she had breathed out with a sense of accomplishment.

“Well,” she said, clasping her hands together. “That went surprisingly smoothly, considering.”

“It went bloody amazing, you mean,” Junkrat said, looping an arm over her shoulder as they made their way back. “They loved me.”

“Yes, sure,” she said with a well-meaning eyeroll. “Speaking of, what were you talking about while I was showering this morning?”

Junkrat shrugged, looking away. “Nothin’ much. Just asking for permission, of sorts. Not that I’d ever _need_ it, but, y’know, sometimes it’s nice to have. Old fashioned, and all that.”

“Ah, I see,” Satya said, feeling her entire body float with happiness, but keeping coy anyway. “Well, if you’re thinking of proposing-“

“-Wha, I, No, But,” Junkrat stammered, but Satya pressed on.

“-If you are going to propose to me, I have a few rules on how it should be done.”

Junkrat snorted loudly and tugged Satya in to kiss her on the temple. “Of course you do, that’s why I love you. Go on, lay it on me.”

“Well, rule number one…”

And with that, they walked on together to their future, bright as ever.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ugh, thanks guys for putting up with this. it's something i've wanted to write just as a personal piece and therefore it's very self indulgent. 
> 
> i'm an american, so although i did my research some things might be inaccurate (i can't believe i had to refer to an apartment as a flat. like, what the fuck) and no, i don't know if junkrat and symmetra would be pro or anti brexit.


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